The page is slow to loadBut I want so badly to see what’s next.Will it be a moving memeAn addled prancing cat, perhaps,Or a pop idol’s face pasted crudely onto pussy genitalsAnd a few hollow puns to link the two together?

There’s no way to tell what will come next,Or if I’m even ready for what might come next,Or if any worthwhile posts have filled my feedSince the last time I refreshed it, mere moments ago.

If any meme-makers are listening, keep mining for memes.No matter how many whining pup-seals you have to clubOr what priceless antique treasures you must deface,Just make it happen:Please find the memes that mankind needs.

Once under the highway near Universal is where does begin a magnificent hill. Its sidewalks are wide with green trees it abounds and thick are the shade-spots that dapple its grounds and rich is the reward that arrives at last when spying the peak of fair Cahuenga Pass. It’s rideable whenever daytime or night (now during the latter I switch on a light) and watch at the top for loose rocks on my right while pedaling madly with all of my might. Along it are fast-food booze cigarette shops dispensaries groomers yet few red-light stops; when southbound upon it people rarely turn lest they run smack into nature’s own rock-berm. Then… over! I’m over! by golly hot dog here comes some relief from that hard-churning slog my wits are about me though I dare not rest for slaloming traffic’s a demanding test. At some points are gravel at some points are holes I take over lanes lest I should be bulldozed by uncaring drivers who’re trying to shoot the gap between me and boulders thick with roots. I know not the name of the goddess whose is the honor of guarding the Cahuenga Pass but thank and applaud her for her loving hands that guide and protect all who pass through her lands.

Oh thank you dear Bali for all you do give for letting me within your confines to live. I love your green meadows your tall soaring cliffs the way you know how my flagged spirits to lift and how you do mete out your punishments justly upon we who waver 'twixt shining and crusty. Oh thank you for hosting my feet and my hands and making sure I see your coveted lands and making sure I don't forget what I came for – to drink in your beauty and taste of your camphor. Please let me stay longer please don't let me go to places less awesome to places more low for I am your son born in a distant land which slowly too slowly I now understand.

It's not just for any old wavelength we'll settle; we seek out the big ones that punish our mettle that drag us and tumble us into the deep with harsh pulling suction and swift faces steep. Between them we float bobble swim through the sea to wherever our chances greatest may be to snatch fleeting glory from a swollen peak – our serious business is not for the meek. There's crab sea-lice jellie trash urchin and shark, there's thunderstorm board-rash log impending dark, there's lobster-net newbie and lightning-strike too, there's shattered plank sunburn and discarded shoe. And still we will go out and enter the churn because deep within us a passion does burn for danger excitement and warm muggy climes; we dream of the perfect wave all waking times.